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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815309">Conflict of Interests (Interesting Conflicts)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilisinmobili/pseuds/mobilisinmobili'>mobilisinmobili</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cross My Heart and Hope You Die [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alex Rider is a Mess, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angstober, Blackmail, Future Fic, Hostage Situations, Illegal Activities, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture, Yassen Gregorovich Lives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:29:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobilisinmobili/pseuds/mobilisinmobili</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yassen Gregorovich was nothing less than deadly on a good day under the right sort of circumstances. But that wasn't always the case. Not when Alex was involved, anyway.<br/>.<br/>Or<br/>.<br/>The time Tom Harris met the oh-so-notorious Russian assassin.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben "Fox" Daniels &amp; Alex Rider, Ben "Fox" Daniels &amp; Tom Harris, Tom Harris &amp; Alex Rider, Tom Harris &amp; K-Unit, Yassen Gregorovich &amp; Alex Rider, Yassen Gregorovich &amp; K-Unit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cross My Heart and Hope You Die [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>AR Angstober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A WIP I completely forgot I had!<br/>---<br/>Song Inspo:<br/>Stigmata - grandson<br/>Revenge and a Little Bit More - Unlike Pluto<br/>Breeze Blocks - Alt J</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was <em> freezing </em>. </p><p>That much was obvious in the way the blood from the jagged puncture wound under his right collar bone was starting to harden, meshing with the ballistics baselayer. </p><p>It was gonna be a <em> bitch </em> getting it off later if there <em> was </em>a later. </p><p>The current situation called any chance of safety or prolonged life in to question, what with his blood loss and impending hypothermia amongst a <em> host </em>of other issues. </p><p>But it would be the hitman with a vendetta chasing him through the empty roads in Chelsea in the middle of a slush flurry that would <em> actually </em>kill him. </p><p>No doubt about it. Not after the chaos of the last twenty-four hours. Five dead and a <em> lot </em>more injured when he accidentally set off the house explosion, wiping out a big chunk of the drugs and chemists 6 had been after. </p><p>Jones was bound to be livid. With good reason. He had <em> really </em> fucked up this time, plain and simple. It was <em> his </em> negligence that had his cover blown and that in turn put the blame on <em> his </em> shoulders for why the high-level buyers they had worked so <em> so </em>hard to bring to light had suddenly scattered back into the dark. </p><p>All of them just up and disappeared off the radar in panic leaving the rest of the operation to implode in <em> spectacular </em>chaos. </p><p>A failed mission for not <em> only </em> him but for the sadistic bastard chasing him as well. And unless SCORPIA as a whole had undergone a doctrine turn around from the last time he'd been in the know, the failure would <em> no doubt </em> bode <em> very </em>badly for the man. </p><p>Which was probably why he was making such an effort, to begin with. He was a dead man walking and he knew that, and <em> that </em>made him all the more lethal. </p><p>He was going to kill the person who ultimately ensured his death...</p><p>"Talk to me, Ben! Where's backup?!"</p><p>He took a sharp right, grunting in pain as the bloody part of his shirt ripped off the wound, bringing new blood bubbling out.</p><p>"ETA fifteen minutes. Mobilizing now. Get to the bridge. They'll handle it from there." </p><p>"<em> Fifteen </em>?!" </p><p>"It's two in the morning, they're mobilizing." The older spy gritted out. He didn't sound all that pleased about the situation either. </p><p>"For now, eyes ahead. Just get over as fast as you can in one piece, it's bloody terrible out on the roads around right now. Lots of black ice patches." </p><p>"Right. And send a medic too, will y-" </p><p>Be it from the blood loss or exhaustion or a good combination of both, he didn't notice until it was too late.</p><p>The heart-stopping sound of metal impacting against metal and tires squealing to find unavailable traction filled the air. Ben had no doubt heard it too, which was probably why he was screaming. </p><p>Or so Alex vaguely registered through the shock and initial flare of pain. </p><p> It felt like someone had taken an aluminum bat to his lungs, brutally knocking the air out of them as the pressure moved down his spine, aggravating his already battered body. </p><p>And somewhere in between getting pinballed between the steering wheel and the seat back the airbags deployed and the car spun, catching on a length of ice. </p><p>And just as fast as the crash had happened, the car came to an abrupt halt leaving nothing more than a mangled passenger’s side door and a ringing in his ears. </p><p><em> Breathe. Assess the situation </em>.</p><p>It had been what Ian had told him time and time again through countless problems and overwhelming situations. But this was <em> not </em>one of those situations. </p><p>To be fair, he <em> had </em> tried. Once the world stopped spinning and he regained control of his motor functions, he let out a sharp breath and took a shuddery one in and almost <em> vomited </em> from the pain of the pressure on his wound. </p><p>And his <em> head </em>. It had to be injured. Maybe some projectile shards of glass? There had to be because it felt as though it were splitting in two. </p><p>The pain was nauseating. </p><p>“‘Llo?! Alex? Are you alright?!”</p><p><em> Jesus. </em> The noise shot the pain up a notch. He needed it to stop. Everything needed to stop. He just needed a moment. Just a minute to close his eyes and regroup so he could at <em> least </em>make it to the bridge and-</p><p>He heard a car door open somewhere vaguely behind his car, probably the source of the sharp brightness lighting up the blurry back window. </p><p>"Alex! Do you copy?! Al-" he couldn't get his tongue to work, head busy swimming in shock. All he could do was let his head drop against the wheel he was gripping on to, bloody knuckled and in pain. </p><p>It left him powerless to the hands that smashed open his window, opened his door, and dragged his unconscious body out into the frigid slush to their own car, tossed them in and slammed the trunk shut.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I almost thought Thornton was lying when he sent in the call." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The obnoxiously shrill screech of the metal chair scrapping its way over had Alex's head ready to implode. Or tear in half. Whatever it was that brainmatter did under unbearable stress and </span>
  <em>
    <span>pain. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to vomit. Puke up his entire stomach, it felt like the sensitive lining of his intestines burning.</span>
</p><p><span>"That bastard can go fuck himself." Alex hissed back without much bite, trying his damn</span> <span>hardest</span> <span>to keep everything down. He wasn't about to show any more weakness than necessary. </span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>in front of the terrifyingly familiar face lowering himself into the </span>
  <em>
    <span>uncomfortably </span>
  </em>
  <span>close seat across from where Alex sat shackled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I see the language still runs so vibrant with you. I suggest you watch that mouth of yours. We are not alone and you know how much the good doctor detests </span>
  <em>
    <span>vulgarities</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The threat mixed warning had waves of memories unleashed running rampant in his mind. He felt himself unwillingly flinch as a frigid chill ran down his spine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where am I?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where. Am. I?" He bit back again, voice barely held steady from the bone deep </span>
  <em>
    <span>terror</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was starting to bloom inside his frazzled mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man didn't need to answer. Somewhere deep in his head he knew. Where else would it be? A change of tactics then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know why."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gregorovich level him a steady stare, bringing on the uncomfortable need to move. To squirm. To do something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>together out from under those flint like eyes, dead to the idea of any sort of mercy. He couldn’t read the man and that only made things all the worse. It made things unpredictable, and unpredictability was never good in their line of work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You found something in the building, before you blew it up." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex kept his mouth shut. He needed all the information he could get because for now he really </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>running a genuine blank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you hid it. Where?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-there wasn't anything. I didn't take a single thing. I couldn't. I didn't have time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't have to lie, letting the admittance ramble out as honestly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are lying."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not! I swear I'm not. I couldn't-all I managed to get were a few photos. I didn't have time to run the stairs </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>the  basement before it blew. I was upstairs in the office-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you open the safe?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you find any important documents?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What else?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man's eyes never once wandered, seemingly seeing through on a mission to find the lie. But the problem was that there weren't any. And he was more than positive Yassen could tell. He was on a different level. There was no fooling the man. Especially not in the state he was in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing! There wasn't anything else-" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched, stopping abruptly at the sudden succession of kicks at one of the legs of his chair, echoing in the dingy cell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in a matter of seconds the door opened and his heart stuttered to a near stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No. No. No. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The grunts shoved the three in, leaving them to stumble the last few steps struggling to find their balance with their hands tied behind their backs looking only a little less ruffled and bloody as Alex did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yassen lashed out a steadying hand to  Tom as he continued to fumble. They looked scared, with every right to be. This wasn't anywhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>near </span>
  </em>
  <span>where they should have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the presence of someone they should have never known. For their own safety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It changed things. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lots</span>
  </em>
  <span> of things. Factors he now had to integrate into his hope of survival which had already been abysmal to begin with. But with three unarmed, untrained </span>
  <em>
    <span>civilians</span>
  </em>
  <span>…? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A lucky happenstance for Thornton. The only reason he is still alive." Yassen gestured at the three. "I have been told that introductions will not be necessary." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex kept his eyes resolutely forward, taking deep breaths to keep what little control he had left. It would buy him some much needed time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sit." It was an order that they didn't need given again. Not after what they'd seen and heard in the other room through the camera feed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, Alexander. I will not ask again. What did you find?"  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Spoiler: Thornton will be coming back! <br/>Also: Tom and friends are not 'ok'... yikes.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's like those "Alex gets his cover blown in front of classmates" fics but more violent and stressful  :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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